


just to see you

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, The Pizza Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pizza guy is hot and, on a totally unrelated note, Combeferre has taken a keen liking to pizza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just to see you

**Author's Note:**

> The fourth of my seven valentines giveaway fics - for [**jehanly**](http://jehanly.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: Courfeyrac is a pizza delivery guy and Combeferre starts eating unhealthy amounts of pizza because he's hoping that Courfeyrac might be the one to deliver it

The first time it happens, Jehan is over and is drinking about a recent breakup. It's their idea, when Combeferre orders them pizza, to request that a haiku be written on the box. Combeferre indulges them, because it makes Jehan laugh and right now, that's a good enough reason to do anything. Combeferre has limited himself to just the one drink, so that he's sober enough to take care of Jehan, so he's pleasantly buzzed by the time the pizza arrives. 

The delivery guy is hot, and Combeferre is glad that he's sober enough to be able to keep that to himself. He's got warm brown eyes and a nice smile, and his name tag reads _Courfeyrac_.

"Ask about the haiku," Jehan insists, from the couch.

Courfeyrac laughs quietly. "Don't you worry, it's there in the box. I wrote it myself."

Combeferre raises an eyebrow. "Well, then."

"I'm a pizza guy, not a poet. Don't raise your expectations too high," Courfeyrac warns with a wink, and it makes Combeferre's heart flutter in a way that makes him wish he could spend the rest of the night drinking about it. "Enjoy your pizza, though."

"Thank you," Combeferre says, as he exchanges his money for the pizza. "Have a good night."

Jehan is on their feet, eagerly waiting as Combeferre carries the pizza over to the kitchen. "Open the box, I want to see the haiku that your cute pizza boy wrote."

"He's not—" Combeferre splutters. "He's not _mine_."

"Mhmm," Jehan replies, eyebrows raised in a way that suggests that perhaps Combeferre should do something about that. Or perhaps that's just Combeferre's wishful thinking.

He opens the box and finds the haiku scrawled on the inside lid. He laughs softly, taking a picture of it on his phone, and turns it around so Jehan can read it too.

_This pizza smells good_  
and I can't eat it, oh god.  
Enjoy it for me. 

"Oh, poor thing, I imagine the smell of pizza would make you pretty hungry," Jehan murmurs, taking a slice. "Now that I'm eating, will you _please_ let me open the net bottle of wine?"

With a sigh, Combeferre nods, all thoughts of the pizza guy pushed out of his mind in favour of taking care of his friend.

—«·»—

Combeferre doesn't think about the pizza guy again until the next time he's ordering pizza. He pauses as he fills out the order form online and grins to himself, typing out yet another request for a haiku, in the hopes that he'll get the same delivery guy.

He does, and Courfeyrac is wearing the same smile from before when he arrives.

"I take it you enjoyed my haiku from last time," Courfeyrac says as he hands the box over. "This one probably won't be as good."

"I'll be the judge of that," Combeferre replies, giving Courfeyrac the money. 

"That's what I'm afraid of," Courfeyrac sighs, but gives Combeferre a cheery wave. "Enjoy the pizza, even if the haiku sucks. Have a good night!"

"You too," Combeferre murmurs, and watches as Courfeyrac leaves, whistling to himself and swinging his delivery bag as he goes.

He opens the pizza box, reading the haiku. It's written in smaller handwriting, near the corner, and Combeferre smiles fondly as he reads it, snapping a photo of this one too.

_Don't know what to write._  
I'm just a one-haiku guy.  
…This is terrible. 

Perhaps Courfeyrac doesn't particularly like writing poetry for strangers. Combeferre can't exactly blame him. The first time was for Jehan's benefit and this time it was for his own. He supposes that twice is enough, and Courfeyrac probably wouldn't appreciate any more. 

He doesn't request a haiku the next time and Courfeyrac shows up with the same smile anyway. Combeferre would be lying if he said that he wasn't looking forward to seeing it. Seeing _him_. 

"So I take it that my last haiku was so terrible that you didn't want to risk asking for any more," he laughs. 

"Not at all. I just didn't want you to feel like you were being forced to do something that you didn't particularly enjoy," Combeferre replies. "Your job begins and ends with delivering pizzas to people's houses, not catering to their every whim."

Courfeyrac opens his mouth, then quickly shuts it again, leaving Combeferre incredibly curious about what he was going to say. Before he can, however, Courfeyrac chuckles quietly. "I didn't mind _that_ much, really. But it's definitely easier to deliver pizza when I don't have to write poetry and count out syllables on my fingers first."

"Noted," Combeferre says with a smile, handing over his money and taking the pizza box. "Have a good night."

"You too," Courfeyrac murmurs, hovering in the doorway as if he's going to say something more, but then turns around to leave.

—«·»—

Combeferre starts ordering pizza once a week. He gets Courfeyrac as his delivery guy every single time and they only spend a few seconds speaking every time, but they manage to make friends regardless. He learns that Courfeyrac is a law student and they ask each other about their degrees when they see each other. They exchange recommendations for books and films and if Combeferre thought that he was attracted to Courfeyrac before, it's nothing compared to the way he feels now that he knows that they share a mutual appreciation for space operas and psychological thrillers.

He tries to limit himself to one pizza a week because he knows that if he breaks his rule, he won't stop breaking it. Except then he gets hit with thesis work and doesn't even realise that he's missed dinner until he looks up from his literature reviews and realises that it's past midnight. He checks that the pizza place is still open and places an order, not even caring that he'd ordered pizza two days ago. He goes back to his work and loses track of time again, startled by the sound of his buzzer. 

"Combeferre?" Courfeyrac's voice is tinny over the intercom. "It's late, is everything okay?"

"It's fine," he replies, buzzing Courfeyrac in. 

"I don't believe you," Courfeyrac continues, when he gets to Combeferre's door. "Oh my god, look at you. There are bags under your eyes! Do you even know what the time is?"

"Ten past twelve?" Combeferre guesses, remembering the last time he checked his watch. He checks it again to find that it's closer to one. "Oh."

" _Oh_." Courfeyrac's eyebrows are drawn together with concern. "Please don't push yourself too hard, okay? I worry."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Combeferre smiles tiredly. "Thanks for caring, but I'll be fine. I just need to get through this one thing." 

"Good luck," Courfeyrac says. "Take a break from your work while you eat, okay?"

"You're just like my friend Enjolras," Combeferre murmurs tiredly. "I think you'd like him, actually." 

"Maybe." There's an odd tone to Courfeyrac's voice, something that tells Combeferre that this is _important_ , but he's too tired to pick up on it. "But maybe I won't like him as much as I like you."

"Everyone likes Enjolras," Combeferre replies, shaking his head. He'll figure out what Courfeyrac means later, when he doesn't have so much work to do.

Courfeyrac gives him a fond smile. "Eat your pizza, Combeferre. Then finish your work and go to bed." 

" _Just_ like Enjolras," Combeferre mumbles again, paying for his pizza. "Good night, Courfeyrac."

He only notices the tiny haiku written on the lid when he's halfway through the pizza.

_What the actual fuck._  
Tell me this isn't dinner.  
Take care of yourself!!!!!! 

—«·»—

It takes him until the next morning to figure it out. It's the late morning, really, because he was up until four o'clock finishing his work and submitting it, and it's nearly eleven when he wakes up. It hits him before he even gets out of bed and it wakes him up more than his alarm ever could.

"Oh. _Oh shit_."

The first thing he does is call Jehan. Unlike Combeferre, Jehan is a morning person, and says far too chipper when they answer the phone. "Good morning, my dear doctoral candidate! How did your deadline go?"

"Fine, I submitted everything to my supervisor," Combeferre says impatiently. "That's not what I'm calling about. I think my pizza guy likes me."

Jehan laughs loudly. "Do you, now?"

"Jehan," Combeferre says desperately. "I'm not good at this. Please help."

"I could have told you that he liked you from the very first night, _three months ago_ ," Jehan tells him. "In fact, I'm not entirely sure that I _didn't_ tell you. Just not in words."

"You know what I'm like," Combeferre mutters, running a hand through his hair. "What do I do?"

"Talk to him?"

"But—where do I even find him?"

"Well…" Jehan says, sounding far too amused by all of this than Combeferre thinks they should. "I can think of one way."

"He works the night shift," Combeferre grumbles. "You're telling me to wait until _tonight_ to talk to him."

"It gives you some time to think about what you're going to say," Jehan points out. "And no, I'm not going to come over and help you with that, before you ask. The words need to come from you."

"Thanks," Combeferre mutters, but he knows that Jehan really is helping, so he says it again, more sincerely this time. "Thank you, Jehan. I appreciate it."

"Tell me how it goes," Jehan replies, as if it isn't just a given fact that they're the first person Combeferre will call afterwards.

–«·»—

"That's three pizzas in four nights," Courfeyrac says when he arrives at Combeferre's door later that night. "Should I be worrying about your health? Should _you_? Although I do have to say you look better tonight than you did last night."

"I wanted to see you," Combeferre replies, because it's really just that simple, and it always has been. "That's why I keep getting pizza so often. I don't even like pizza that much—no, okay, I _do_ , but I wouldn't be ordering it as often if it didn't mean that I could see you and I realise that probably sounds creepier than I intended, fuck, I should have just written out a speech or something, but that sounds like what Enjolras would do."

"Your friend Enjolras," Courfeyrac has a small smile, like he might know where this is going, "who say that I should meet."

"You _should_ meet him," Combeferre tells him. "I mean—you should meet all my friends. I'd like to introduce you to them. I'd like to spend time with you, Courfeyrac. I'd like to spend enough time with you that it makes sense to introduce you to the rest of my friends. As my—friend."

"Your… friend," Courfeyrac repeats, with a significant pause. He raises his eyebrows, grinning. "Do you think you could fit another word in between?"

"Do you want to?" Combeferre asks breathlessly, because his heart is caught somewhere in his throat and Courfeyrac is _looking_ at him, and Combeferre can only stare in return. 

"What I want right now," Courfeyrac says slowly, shifting his delivery bag to one hand and stepping a little closer, "what I think we _both_ want—and please correct me if I'm wrong—but I want you to kiss me."

"And I want to kiss you," Combeferre replies, and his heart is definitely back in his chest, he can feel it pounding there as he takes half a step towards Courfeyrac, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. Courfeyrac is much shorter than him, and Combeferre only really registers it now as he's leaning down and Courfeyrac is leaning up. 

Their kiss is brief and it leaves Combeferre's lips tingling as he pulls away. Courfeyrac is grinning widely and Combeferre knows that he is too. 

"I don't have any deadlines for a while and I was thinking of watching _The Fifth Element_ ," Combeferre murmurs. "You could join me after you finish work. Or on another day."

"I usually finish at one o'clock," Courfeyrac replies. "You should have an early night tonight."

"I don't mind staying up," Combeferre replies. "Especially if I'm staying up for a _good_ reason, instead of just because I'm doing work. Unless you really don't want to come over later, in which case—"

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac says fondly, kissing him again. "I'll come over. Take your pizza and have dinner at a reasonable hour this time. I'll see you in… ugh, five hours? These are going to be the longest five hours of my life." 

"Same here," Combeferre nods, but he can't help the grin that's tugging at his lips. "It'll be worth the wait, though."

Courfeyrac beams at him, and it's an expression that Combeferre is going to make sure he sees regularly from now on. "It really will."

"See you then?" Combeferre asks, leaning in for another kiss.

"Mm," Courfeyrac hums happily, stroking a hand through Combeferre's hair. "One more for the road?"

Combeferre happily indulges, and they're both smiling too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he doesn't mind. They'll have plenty of time to kiss later.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and join the [valentines giveaway](http://kiyala.tumblr.com/post/109753702916) on tumblr!


End file.
